19 recipes that use grated nutmeg, with photos, step-by-step instructions and cook times. The quickest, Jamaican carrot juice, takes 10 minutes. It is most often cooked with plain flour, butter and egg.
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A smooth, creamy cauliflower soup flavoured with nutmeg and Parmesan, with little bow-tie pasta stirred through. It's served with crisp, curled melba toast sprinkled with Parmesan and paprika, so it makes a light meal on its own.
Cornmeal porridge is the breakfast many Jamaicans grew up on, cooked in homes across the island before school and work. Fine cornmeal is simmered slowly with milk and water until thick and velvety, then spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla and sweetened with condensed milk. It's warm, filling and gently sweet. Chef's tip: whisk the cornmeal into cold water first to make a smooth slurry before it meets any heat. Adding dry cornmeal to hot liquid is how porridge goes lumpy.
Gizzada (also called 'pinch-me-round') is a little Jamaican tart with a crisp, crimped crust and a chewy filling of grated coconut cooked with brown sugar, nutmeg and ginger. It's sold in bakeries and roadside stalls across Jamaica; the name is thought to come from the Portuguese 'queijada', brought by Portuguese Jewish settlers. Eat it with a cup of tea or as an afternoon treat. Chef's tip: cook the coconut filling until it's sticky and almost dry, with no syrup pooling in the pan. A wet filling soaks into the pastry and the crust goes soft instead of crisp.
Toto is an old-time Jamaican country cake, the kind baked in a 'dutchie' over coals in rural St Mary and St Ann and sold in squares at bakeries and school tuck shops. It's dense and moist rather than light, packed with grated coconut, darkened with brown sugar and fragrant with nutmeg, cinnamon and vanilla. Lovely with a cup of tea, still slightly warm. Chef's tip: use fresh grated coconut if you can, or soak desiccated coconut in the warm coconut milk for 15 minutes first. Dry coconut steals moisture from the batter and leaves the cake crumbly instead of chewy.
Jamaican carrot juice isn't a thin health drink but a creamy, sweet treat, blended fresh in homes and sold cold in bottles at markets and juice stands across the island, especially on Sundays and at Christmas. Grated carrots are blended with water and strained, then sweetened with condensed milk and spiced with nutmeg, vanilla and a squeeze of lime. Chef's tip: add a squeeze of lime and a little fresh ginger. The sharpness cuts through the sweetness and stops the drink tasting flat, the way Jamaican cooks make it.
Kurma is a crunchy Indo-Trinidadian sweet made for Divali, weddings and pujas, and sold in bags at roadside parlours in Central Trinidad. A rich dough flavoured with ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg is cut into thin sticks, fried until hard and golden, then tossed in a hot ginger sugar syrup until it dries into a frosty white coating. It keeps for weeks in a tin. Chef's tip: keep stirring the kurma in the syrup off the heat until the sugar suddenly turns opaque and sandy. That moment is the whole trick; stop too early and the coating stays sticky, and the 'frost' is what makes kurma kurma.
Xacuti (sha-koo-tee) is one of Goa's most complex curries: grated coconut is roasted until deep brown with poppy seeds, dried chillies and a long list of whole spices, then ground into a thick, aromatic masala. In Goa it's usually made with chicken; vegetarian Goan families make it with mushrooms, potatoes, peas and other vegetables, and the roasted coconut gives it all the depth it needs. It's warm and fragrant rather than fiery, with a touch of tamarind and jaggery. Serve with rice, pao or chapatis. Chef's tip: roast the coconut slowly over a low heat until it's the colour of milk chocolate and smells like toasted nuts; that colour is the xacuti's flavour, and pale coconut gives you a pale, flat curry.
Perkedel came to Indonesia from the Dutch frikadel, but became something quite different: mashed fried potato seasoned with nutmeg, white pepper, spring onion and fried shallots, shaped into little patties and fried in a coating of egg. Families make them for soto, for nasi kuning platters and Lebaran tables, and children grab them cold from the fridge. The outside is lacy and golden, the inside soft and peppery. Chef's tip: fry the potatoes before mashing, rather than boiling them — it's the Indonesian way, and it gives drier, fluffier potato that holds its shape without flour.
Watalappan came to Sri Lanka with the island's Malay and Muslim communities, and no Eid table in Colombo, Beruwala or Kandy is complete without it; it now turns up at weddings and birthdays across every community. Thick coconut milk and eggs are sweetened with kithul jaggery, the dark palm sugar from the fishtail palm, and spiced with cardamom, nutmeg and a little clove, then steamed until it sets into a wobbly, honeycombed custard the colour of toffee. Cashews scattered on top add crunch. Dark muscovado sugar works if you can't find kithul jaggery. The common mistake is steaming it on a fierce boil, which makes it full of large holes and watery; a steady, gentle simmer gives a smooth set with the fine honeycomb that's prized. Chef's tip: strain the mixture through a sieve before steaming to remove any stringy egg and jaggery grit.
Puff puff is the snack of Nigerian parties, school gates and roadside stalls: a sweet yeast batter scooped by hand into hot oil, where it swells into soft, chewy, golden balls. Across the border in Ghana the same treat is called bofrot (or 'boflot'), often a little larger and spiced with more nutmeg, and sold in clear bags on Accra's streets; we treat them as one dish here. Eat them warm on their own, or with a dusting of sugar. Chef's tip: the batter is ready only when it has doubled and is full of bubbles; under-proved batter gives heavy, greasy balls.
Every December, Nigerian kitchens turn into small factories of chin chin, crunchy little cubes of sweet fried dough packed into big plastic tubs for Christmas visitors, weddings and the long drive back to the village. The dough is enriched with butter, egg and evaporated milk and scented with nutmeg; cut small and fried, it shatters with a satisfying crunch. It keeps for weeks, so families make kilos at a time. Chef's tip: roll the dough evenly thin, about 5 mm, so every piece fries through to a crisp centre at the same time.
Kelewele is what Accra smells like after dark: ripe plantain cubes tossed in a paste of ginger, onion, chilli and spice, then fried at roadside stalls lit by lamps and sold in paper cones. It is eaten as an evening snack, often with a handful of roasted peanuts, or as a side with red red. The outside caramelises while the spices turn toasty, so every piece is sweet, hot and spicy at once. Chef's tip: use plantains that are yellow with lots of black spots; fully black ones collapse in the oil and green ones never turn sweet.
Basundi is the reduced-milk dessert of Maharashtra and Gujarat: whole milk simmered patiently in a wide pan, with the skin that forms on top scraped back in, until it is thick, cream-coloured and a little grainy, then sweetened and scented with cardamom and saffron. In Maharashtra it's served with hot puris for Gudi Padwa and Bhau Beej; in Gujarat it turns up at weddings and on Sharad Purnima, and it's also the base of the famous custard-apple (sitafal) basundi. Make it a day ahead; it thickens and tastes richer after a night in the fridge. Chef's tip: use a wide, heavy pan rather than a deep one; more surface means faster evaporation and less time standing at the stove.
On the first day of Ganesh Chaturthi, kitchens all along the Konkan coast and in Pune and Mumbai fill with steam as families shape ukadiche modak, the pleated dumplings said to be Ganpati's favourite sweet. A soft, translucent shell of rice flour cooked in water (the ukad) wraps a filling of fresh coconut and jaggery scented with cardamom and nutmeg. Twenty-one modak are offered to the deity, and the rest are eaten warm with a spoon of ghee poured into a little hole poked in the top. The pleating takes practice, so make a few extra and don't worry if the first ones are lumpy. Chef's tip: knead the ukad while it is still hot, with your palm oiled and dipped in cold water; a dough left to cool turns crumbly and cracks when you pleat it.
No Goan Catholic Christmas, wedding or feast is complete without bebinca, the 'queen of Goan desserts'. A rich batter of coconut milk, egg yolks, sugar and a little flour is cooked one thin layer at a time under the heat, each layer brushed with ghee before the next is poured on, so the finished cake shows dark-and-light stripes when sliced. Traditionally it was baked over coconut-husk fire with coals on the lid and had sixteen layers; a home grill makes eight to ten easily in an afternoon. It's rich, dense and fudgy, and keeps for a week. Serve thin slices at room temperature, or warm with vanilla ice cream. Chef's tip: make each layer the same thin pour; a thick layer stays raw in the middle while its top burns.
On the morning of Thai Pongal in mid-January, families across Tamil Nadu cook new-harvest rice in a clay pot in the courtyard and wait for the milk to bubble over: 'pongalo pongal!'. That pot becomes sakkarai pongal, a sticky, golden-brown sweet of rice and moong dal cooked soft, then simmered with melted jaggery and finished with lots of ghee, cardamom, edible camphor and cashews and raisins fried golden. It's also the classic prasadam at Vishnu temples. It's the sweet twin of the peppery ven pongal. Chef's tip: dry-roast the moong dal until it smells nutty before cooking; it adds a toasty depth that plain boiled dal can't give.
After dark in Panjim, Mapusa and Margao, roadside carts fry omelettes to order and ladle over them a thin, spicy chicken gravy called ros, meaning juice. It is late-night food, eaten standing up, mopped with soft Goan pao. The ros is a loose chicken xacuti, rich with roasted coconut, poppy seeds and star anise. Chef's tip: keep the gravy soupy; it should flood the omelette and soak into the bread, not sit on top like a stew.
Hünkar beğendi is a dish from the Ottoman palace kitchens of Istanbul; its name means 'the sultan was pleased', and a well-known story links it to a royal banquet of the 1860s. Today it is a special Sunday or guest dish in Istanbul homes and old-style lokanta restaurants. Tender chunks of lamb are braised slowly with tomato and peppers, then spooned over beğendi, a silky purée of fire-charred aubergine whisked into a light cheese sauce. The smoky, creamy base against the rich stew is the whole point. Chef's tip: char the aubergines directly over a gas flame until the skins are black and collapsing; the oven alone won't give that smoky flavour.
Bacalhau com natas is the comfort bake that turns up at Portuguese Christmas gatherings, Sunday lunches and every café menu from Porto to Faro. Flaked salt cod, soft onion and cubes of fried potato are folded into a light béchamel enriched with cream, then baked until bubbling and golden on top. It is rich, gently salty and easy to make ahead for a crowd. Serve with a crisp green salad and some bread. Chef's tip: fry the potato cubes only until pale gold; they finish cooking in the oven, and crisp ones turn soggy anyway.
